“When you divide up the inheritance of the land, you must set aside part of the land as sacred space for God: approximately seven miles long by six miles wide, all of it holy ground.”
Zachariah said to the angel, “Do you expect me to believe this? I’m an old man and my wife is an old woman.”
But the angel said, “I am Gabriel, the sentinel of God, sent especially to bring you this glad news. But because you won’t believe me, you’ll be unable to say a word until the day of your son’s birth. Every word I’ve spoken to you will come true on time—God’s time.”
When God sends us a messenger or a word, delivering the Good News, we’ll always ask “How?”
“I’m an old man. She’s an old woman.”
“Passed my prime.”
“Too many barriers. Impossible.”
“How do you expect me to believe this?”
It’s funny that Zachariah was running his usual priestly duties before the presence of God. An offering ritual. But it seems this time is different. This time God really showed up, in the form of His messenger..
It would ignite a shock to anyone’s system when God decide to invade the everyday ordinariness of our lives. Even for a priest who practises the presence of God. We don’t readily anticipate the unexpected. Granted we shouldn’t keep looking out for answers in form of signs for our demands or petitions, but that’s not to say one should numb their senses and be unprepared for the Divine.
We need to craft space for holy ground. Sacred space for our Creator to speak. For He could use either a burning bush or an angelic messenger. He leaves us guessing as far as the form goes. But we plant seeds and keep planting to see which will grow. This is the mystery. We can’t control God like a puppet or a golden calf whom we can use for our whims and fancies. It is on His terms. We can only prepare our hearts in quiet anticipation.
Lest we be paralysed by fear and unbelief when the Message does come in the form which we’re not comfortable with.
Lest I be silenced by God, like Zachariah, for not embracing that which He has spoken.
This weekend will be a time when I measure out that sacred space with precision. The un-doing of my routines and the cultivation of allowing mystery and glory to invade my cluttered life. With silence and solitude in the community of friends and the wonder of creation, I pray His Word would take shape and form in my heart.
“God, forgive me for my unbelief. Bring me to a state of being silent, which allows space for Your Word to come to pass. Fill me with Your Spirit that I may be a vessel, a carrier of Your Good News. Prophesy into and through my life. As I prepare this sacred space to listen, in quiet anticipation.”